


We Are One

by puppyfacedbrokenboys



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott, Demisexual Scott, Deviates From Canon, Disney References, Fluff, McCall Family Feels, McCall Pack, Multi, POV Scott McCall, Pregnancy, Star Wars References, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stilinski Family Feels, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppyfacedbrokenboys/pseuds/puppyfacedbrokenboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mom, it’s not mine," Scott stresses into the phone over his mom's rapid Spanish. "Well it is... but <i>not</i>," he clarifies. It may not be biologically, but it was most certainly all of theirs.</p><p>// The journey as McTatenski navigate through Malia's pregnancy, from Scott's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaycares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaycares/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy your gift, kaycares!! This fic just kept growing, and I really enjoyed taking a stab at writing McTatenski.
> 
> Note:  
> I have never been pregnant, nor to an OBGYN appointment. I did research and asked the mothers in my family about their experiences, so I tried to keep everything as accurate as to my best ability. Sorry for anything that isn't.
> 
> Also the title and the italicized parts at the beginning and end are from Lion King 2.

_we are more than we are..._

The cool ocean breeze is refreshing against his healing sun-raw skin as Scott McCall sits alone. The sky in front of him is tinted oranges and reds and pinks as he wiggles his toes in the sand.

He likes it here — how open and calm it is with only the sounds of waves lapping at the sand a few feet in front of him. How the sand stretches miles and miles on each side of him. No bustling of people, no cars. No dark monsters imposing on his moment of peace.

He’s alone; an insignificant part of the universe, if only for a moment.

That is until the sounds of faint moans come from the tent behind him. But instead of being annoyed he smiles to himself and lies back in the sand, pillowing his head on his arms. He focuses on the sounds, letting them almost hum in his ears as he relaxes into the sand.

He wasn’t alone. He never truly is, honestly. That’s the best part of it all.

But it’s different here. He’s just Scott. Not Scott McCall the Son. Not Scott McCall the Werewolf. Not Scott McCall the True Alpha. Not the Scott McCall that Supernaturals Want to Kill. He’s Scott McCall on a post-college (well, in-between college in Scott’s case) road trip with his loves.

It’s his vacation and he’s going to enjoy every minute of it. Just as his loves are clearly enjoying themselves in the tent behind him.

Scott chuckles to himself, his grin stretching even more as he shuts his eyes and sighs contentedly.

He’s happy. He’s well on his way to becoming an official, card-carrying veterinarian and slotted to take over Deaton’s clinic the day he gets his certificate. The supernatural threats have slowed down in the past few years, and his pack has been able to live seemingly normal lives. His disastrous (more or less) love life has calmed down now that he’s come to learn more about himself through loss.

He now identifies as a panromantic demisexual, who is now in a polyamorous relationship with his one-time possessed-by-a-dark-spirit bisexual best friend and his pansexual werecoyote of a girlfriend. It happened slowly, and then all at once when they fell into bed together one night and they never looked back.

It was easy to go from friends to something more. Stiles had been in his life for as long as he could remember, and Malia was this wild coyote-girl that strolled into his life and protected him at every turn. A girl that his best friend, whom Scott had always loved on one level or another as easy as breathing, loved and, in turn, Scott had come to love too. So easy in fact, it was almost as if they were to always end up together.

Scott’s broken from his thoughts by first the smell of sex, and then with the swirl of woods and plum mingled with a hint of Axe body spray, followed by Malia flopping down next to him, curling into his side and brushing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hi,” she says happily, resting her head on his chest and reaching out a hand to pull Stiles down on Scott’s other side.

Stiles’ drop to the ground is much less graceful, and he just narrowly misses elbowing Scott in the face on his way down. He slides in close to Scott’s other side, bringing with him a stronger wave of Axe, and wraps his arms over Scott to get to Malia as they effectively encase Scott in.

Scott loves this part, more than the actual act itself he’s come to find out. He loves being with them, but also loves to let Malia and Stiles have their time. Nevertheless, they always seek him out and cuddle him afterward. Their scents, mingling with the cinnamon smell of sex, and their arms wrapped around him, is more than enough for him.

Scott presses a kiss to Stiles’ mouth – still shy and tentative, but full of love nonetheless – and rolls his head to rest against Stiles’ temple, nuzzling. His arm holds Stiles close, and his other arm wraps around Malia’s body to play with her hair.

“Miss us while we were gone, di’ya?” Stiles mumbles and Scott can hear the grin.

“Shut up,” Scott says, rolling his eyes.

Malia’s hair tickles his chin as she moves to press a kiss to his jaw. “We missed you, though," she assures quietly, just for him.

She’s really perceptive for once being a full time coyote, and Scott loves that about her. It’s what makes her and Stiles a perfect match for him. They fill in the gaps of where the other one can’t. Scott has a big enough heart to love them both.

He presses a kiss to Malia’s hair, and then lets his head fall back to the sand as he sighs contently. They always try to find time to just be with each other, and tonight is no different. With the sun almost completely set in the sky and the moon coming out high above them, they fall silent.

Or as silent as possible with Stiles’ jack-rabbit of a heart thumping next to them - but it’s a sound of comfort. At least, usually. After a bit of silence, Scott hears it change up its pace. Malia shifts from her spot on Scott’s chest, presumably where she was nodding off as her sleepy tone drifts up before Scott can say anything.

“You okay over there?” It’s softer than the way her blunt questions used to come out, but it’s no less direct.

Scott rolls his head to look down at Stiles. His thumb begins to rub slow circles on Stiles’ hip. He can feel the anxiety starting to waft off of him, and his own starts to rise. He stays silent, instead being the pillar of strength that he can.

But Scott knows what’s coming before it even leaves Stiles’ mouth.

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“Until Thanksgiving,” Scott says after a few beats, giving Stiles’ side a comforting squeeze. Malia’s hand joins his. Ever since their falling out in senior year (and before that, ever since they met), Stiles always got anxious if they were separated for any extended-period of time. Working was easier, since they all knew they would be coming home at the end of the day. But with Scott over a hundred miles away at college, it didn’t sit well with any of them, especially Stiles.

“But we’ll skype him every day,” Malia interjects, leaning up on her elbow to see both of them. Her smile manages to make Stiles’ face relax a little. “And whenever you have a day off, Stiles, I’m kidnapping you and we’re driving up there to see him.”

“Yeah!” Scott smiles, too. “And you’re going to be so busy, Mister Deputy, that you’ll forget about missing little ol’ me.”

Stiles’ face finally morphs into a smile at that, even though Scott knows no matter what Stiles will be doing, he’ll still be a wreck when Scott isn’t there.

“Hey, Mal isn’t leaving,” Scott assures, and smiles down at Malia. “You’ll take care of him for me?”

Malia sits up straight and crosses her heart with her finger. “Cross my heart. What are partners for?” She smiles then and leans over Scott to press a kiss to the corner of Stiles' mouth. “We’re all in this together.”

Stiles smiles softly at her and sighs. They shouldn’t have showed her High School Musical. "Damn, I'm bringing the mood down. Don't mind me."

Malia and Scott share a look and roll their eyes fondly. Then they smile at each other and then look back at Stiles.

"What?" Stiles asks when he's met with two very wolfish grins.

"Get him," Malia simply says and dives over Scott to get at Stiles, with Scott right behind her as they unleash a tickle attack on Stiles.

The three falls into a fit of laughter and soon Malia's and Scott's tickling fingers coax Stiles' anxiety away until they're a pile of limbs on the sand with no idea where one person ends and the other begins.

They're one, and it's the best way to be on their last day of vacation.

* * *

 

If the memory of their last day on the beach together was a photo, it'd be worn around the edges from the amount of times Scott has pulled it out from the back of his mind to look at it.

He loves being at school, of course; loves learning and helping animals. But being away from Malia and Stiles for long periods of time puts him on edge and ready to drop everything and drive back if he has to.

Malia being sick, and a lot longer than usual, isn't helping matters. Every free second he gets he's texting Stiles for updates; his fingers tapping on his desk as he counts down the time until their weekly Skype date and barely catches a word his professors are saying the entire day.

**From Han Solo, 10:38AM**

_Shes tryin to sleep it off_

**From Han Solo, 1:59PM**

_I paid Liam 50 to sit w her got work_ **  
**

**From Han Solo, 2:00PM**

_Don't give me that look Diaz had to drag my ass out_

**From Han Solo, 2:02PM**

_Duty pays the bills I g2g_

**From Han Solo, 3:45PM**

_Liam said she ate and didn't puke this time that's a positive right?_

**From Pup, 3:48PM**

_YEs Scott she ate and shes more alert_

**From Pup, 3:50PM**

_she ate soup_

**From Pup, 3:52PM**

_mase made it. it’s got tons of veggies & deer_

**From Pup, 4:05PM**

_Arent you the one always yelling at me to pay attention in class? PAY ATTENTION!!! shes in good hands_

**From Han Solo, 4:23PM**

_B home in 15_

Scott bolts out of his seat the second the professor stops talking, not even caring if he completely missed what the homework was. (He'd get it from Jake later.) Homework didn't matter when there was something wrong with his love and he wasn't even there to—

_What if she's in pain?_

The thought makes Scott run faster. He had fifteen minutes to get to his dorm. He swerves past people the best he can, yelling "Sorry, emergency!" in lieu of an apology when he knocks into someone, and jumps over bushes and people camping out in the quad and enjoying the sunny day.

He makes it to his dorm just in time to slam his door behind him, throw his book bag on the floor, and fall to his knees at the edge of his bed to boot up his laptop. He almost locks up the machine in his haste to sign in to Skype before his computer is completely boot up, but nothing matters because he needs to see Stiles and he needs to see Malia for himself - his wolf and doctor senses battling in his trembling body.

"Hey—" Scott's smile falters and his voice breaks off at the sight he sees in front of him. The sight of Malia's pale face peeking out of the blanket Stiles had wrapped around her makes his heart clench in his chest, and he doesn't even realize he's reaching towards the screen and touching it, as if he could get to her.

"How you doing, sweetie?" he coos, his voice adopting his "doctor tone" as Stiles likes to call it, even though it's the same as his calming Alpha voice.

"'M f'ne," Malia mumbles, resting her head back on Stiles' chest. "Stop worrying about me."

"You look like death," Stiles states out, and his anxiety is so high Scott can practically feel it through the screen.

"Thanks. That makes me feel _so much better_ ," Malia quips and Scott takes her distraction as time to really look her over as much as he can without physically being there.

Nothing looks too out of the ordinary of what could be just a bad flu bug, but there's something that isn't sitting right with Scott. It can't be the flu, or a cold, or even allergies; for as long as Malia has been sick, Stiles for sure would have caught it by then. Stiles was a germ magnet and would always be down if either Scott, Malia, or other pack member would be. Something else was wrong. Something that was itching at the back if Scott's brain that he just couldn't reach.

The sound of Malia groaning on the screen brings Scott back to the present. "I have to pee," Malia announces as she fights the blankets and Stiles' arms to get up.

"You literally just went before we called Scott," Stiles says, to which Malia replies, "So? You gotta go, you gotta go!"

The thing that was just out of Scott's reach falls into place. The one thing Scott hadn't thought of and the one solution that could be really bad or really good. But first, he needed to do a little math.

"Stiles," he calls to get his boyfriend's attention. He sits up a little as Stiles turns his gaze back to the screen.

"Yeah?"

Scott takes a breath. "How long has it been since we went to the beach? Five – going on six weeks?"

On the screen Stiles' lips move as his fingers tap the arm of the couch, counting. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

Scott smiles and Malia makes her return just then, resuming her spot on the couch next to Stiles and in her blanket cocoon. She does a double take between the boys, from Scott's smile to Stiles' confusion. "What'd I miss?"

"Scott asked me how long it's been since—"

"We're pregnant," Scott blurts out, and his grin lights up even brighter on the screen. "I mean, _you_ are. You'll have to get blood work and all that, but you have all the symptoms. Pale, tired, sick, urinating a lo—"

"I'm pregnant?"

"A baby?!"

Malia is just fast enough to catch Stiles before his head hits the floor from shock.

* * *

 

After Malia explains more of her symptoms to Scott and an hour of calming Stiles down from multiple panic attacks, the three of them make a plan. They decide not to waste money on a home pregnancy test.

Instead, Scott brings in the big guns: his mom.

“Mom, it’s not mine," Scott stresses into the phone over his mom's rapid Spanish. "Well it is... but _not_ ," he clarifies, the tight knot in his stomach fading from accidentally insinuating that their future baby was not his. It may not be biologically, but it was most certainly all of theirs.

"Oh, honey, I know," Melissa says after a few more strings of Spanish. When she takes a deep breath he does too. "I'm sorry, I'm truly happy for you — all three of you. It's just—"

"A shock. We know." Scott smiles softly and drags his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah. I thought I'd have a few more years to prepare." _Me too_ , Scott thinks. There's a warm chuckle followed by a sigh before Melissa continues, her smile evident in her voice. "Okay, minor freak-out over. This is exciting! I'll talk to Sherri and see if she can fit Malia in as soon as possible. I want you back in school on Monday, you hear me?"

"M'am, yes, m'am," Scott replies and the sound of his mom laughing again makes him realize just how scared he had been, but he does not need to be. "Thanks, Mom."

"It will all be fine, I promise," Melissa assures, sensing that her son needs to hear it. "But you all are telling John."

The ball of nerves moves back home in his stomach as he hangs up with his mother and rushes to pack.

* * *

 

The two hour drive back to Beacon Hills is a blur to Scott's nerve-addled brain.

He spends the time tapping on the steering wheel with his fingers and alternating between making lists in his head of what the three of them are going to have to do in the apartment for the new baby as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel in a repeating beat, answering Stiles' calls every five minutes, and trying to recall anything Deaton had told him about supernatural pregnancies.

Turns out Deaton hadn’t really told him much. They were going into this blind.

“What else is new?” Scott mutters to himself as he turns on his blinker to get off the interstate and onto the ramp that would lead him into town. When the ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’ sign appears, Scott takes what felt like his first breath since jumping in the car that morning.

He quickly navigates his way to the loft that used to belong to Derek. Derek moved a couple years before and let Malia move in under the condition of “I get a free pass at your place whenever I’m in town.” Malia happily agreed, of course, and soon Stiles was staying over often enough to just move in (“Your stuff is already here, just stay, Stiles.”) and soon Scott followed suit, but it was more gradually and it was his mom who pointed out that she never seemed to see him anymore so he might as well just stay there. (Of course, Stiles’ dad moving into the McCall house was the final push - in a good way. Scott didn’t want to interrupt anything.)

Scott parks and grabs the duffle out of the back seat and sprints up the stairs to the loft. He feels the nerves that had been fluttering in his body fade away for the time being as a smile curls at the corner of his lips. He drags open the heavy sliding door and yells out, “HONEYS, I’M HOME!”

Scott drops his bag on the floor and has just enough time to scan the living room interior — Stiles’ glowing laptop surrounded by papers and manila folders and more papers, pillows strewn all over the place, and wayward chocolate wrappers — before he’s being tackled on each side by his loves.

“I missed you so much!” is exclaimed followed by a kiss to his cheek and then a long press of lips. Scott can taste chocolate and mint, and he sighs into the kiss as he wraps his arms around Malia. He’s being hugged from behind at the same time, and not to be left out, Stiles leans forward over Scott’s shoulder to join in their kiss. Scott moans in contentment, reaching back to pull Stiles towards him. Malia pulls back a few moments later and, leaning against Scott, lets the boys continue alone. Stiles takes the opportunity to spin around towards Scott’s front and welcomes him properly with a deep kiss of his own.

“Welcome home, Lando,” Stiles says with a laugh when they come up for air, and then wraps both of them up in a big, tight hug until Malia manages to wiggle out of his grip.

“You’re suffocating me… and if I get hugged any tighter I think I’ll puke you,” Malia says as she walks away from them — _barefoot, of course_ , Scott notes — and curls up on the big, round chair they had bought for the sole reason that it fit all three of them comfortably (and was really comfy).

The boys share a fond look and then follow her over to the chair, curling around her as she hugs the stuffed Wiley E Coyote plush to herself, burying her nose in its ears.

“How you doin’, Leia?” Scott asks her, dropping an arm across her bent knees to wrap fingers around Stiles' arm that's running down Malia's knee to her ankle and back. Malia cuddles closer and rests her head on his chest. Scott’s hand finds its familiar place back in her hair as he gently massages her scalp.

“Better now your magic fingers are here,” she murmurs into the fabric of his shirt. She lets out a sigh, then, and Scott smiles.

“Headaches?”

“Mhmm. And body aches.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead. “Been shifty?”

This time Stiles answers. “Not really. Not like I was expecting.” He pauses for a moment, and Scott looks up to see him reaching over for a stack of paper that had been at the foot of the chair, close to Stiles’ laptop. He hands it to Scott.

“Figured Deaton probably didn’t leave any semblance of a clue… Most pregnant werewolves, from what I’ve read, tend to lose grip on their control — or feel more comfortable in their shifted form than completely… not.” Of course Stiles would spend any free moment he had researching this stuff. The guy hated not being prepared after so many years of trying to fight supernatural threats blindly, and Scott was very grateful for his obsessive friend that seemed to always read his mind.

Malia groans softly between them. “I’m fine, guys. Can’t we just cuddle here until the doctor’s appointment, and leave all that talk for later? I finally don’t feel nauseous and I’d like that to last… and it’s Scott’s first night back, we haven’t even asked him how school’s been...”

Stiles begrudgingly sighs loudly and Scott tosses the papers to the floor for the time being and then they both cocoon Malia in. Scott fills up the silence as he relies tales from school — most of which they’ve already heard, and before any of them know it they’ve fallen asleep, warm and cozy in each other.

* * *

 

Scott’s alarm going off has him throwing his body up-right. He manages to miss hitting Malia completely, but catches Stiles’ cheek (whom was, previously, using Scott as his make-shift pillow) with his hand in his movement. A groan escapes the other male as Scott rescues his phone from his pocket.

“Um, ow?” Stiles tries, groggy, but flops back when he gets no response from Scott.

Scott decides not to entertain him, but sends him an apologetic smile for his trouble. Then he leans back to rest his hand gently on the curled into a ball, still sleeping form of Malia. “Sweetie, it’s time for your appointment.”

“Dun wan’,” she mumbles as she tries to burrow back into Stiles’ warmth. She looks so cute, all curled up and sleepy, and Scott’s heart warms at the sight. He also has a moment of wanting to leave her be, but he has to wake her or they’ll be late to the appointment. If they’re late to the appointment then he’d miss the first appointment. And if he misses the appointment his mom will kill him.

He adapts his soft voice, the one he’d use on a skittish animal. “C’mon, Mal. It’ll be quick and painless.” He runs his fingers through her hair, presses a kiss to her temple, and stands up. He turns his attention to Stiles, like he has so many times before.

Stiles, in comparison, is not a pretty sleeper. He sleeps with his mouth open and drools, his breaths hot and loud against whomever he’s curled up against. He’s also all limbs in bed, and likes to take up as much room as he can. (He’s the reason they had to splurge on the California King, lest someone get kicked in the middle of the night.)

His sleeping form now is no different. His head is lying on the seat of the chair, with his back following the curve of the chair. His torso is twisted, causing his neck to fall in an odd angle, and has one leg slung over Malia’s leg, and one over the back of the chair. His arms have welcomed Malia and have enclosed around her.

Scott shakes his head, walking over to rest his hand on Stiles’ head. He leans over and hisses, “Stiles, wake up.” He has just enough time to lean back on his heels and away to avoid getting hit by the arm-flailing form of a now-alert Stiles.

“Dude, what–”

Scott waves his phone at Stiles and Stiles squints to read the time. “We have to get her up.”

Stiles’ head swivels to look down at Malia, and instantly his face morphs into a smile, the sharpness of his face rounding out as he looks down with a look of adoration and love. Scott, no doubt, has the same look on his face while looking at Stiles.

“Honey, baby, sweetie - c’mon,” Stiles murmurs at Malia, just loud enough for Scott to pick up with his enhanced hearing. “We gotta get the pup looked at.” Scott hold backs a laugh at that, but it rouses Malia enough to lazily swat at Stiles, who dodges it easily.

“N’a pup,” Malia groans into Stiles’ arm still trapped under her. How he managed to not disturb her with his arm flailing, Scott will never know.

“Actually, yes, it will be. If it’s part coyote it will be,” Stiles continues, undeterred from the swat. (It’s a regular thing when it comes to waking up Malia.) He manages to gently coax her with his hands to a sitting position, where Scott swoops forward to quickly pull her hair up in a ponytail. “Coyote young are called pups… or whelps, but I’m not calling our baby a ‘whelp’.”

“Somebody better tell Liam he’s been pup-dethroned,” Scott interjects, and the joke makes Malia laugh softly as she sags against him.

Stiles shrugs. “Something tells me he won’t be too heartbroken.” It was true. Liam was not taken with his designated nickname, but it _fit_. “He’s lucky I didn’t make ‘Jar Jar’ stick.”

Malia gives a louder laugh at that – more alert now – and the boys take the opportunity to join forces and pull her up from the chair. She lets them, for the most part, and rolls her eyes. “I can get up on my own, you know.”

“Then do it, we have to go,” Scott reminds her.

“I might be a mom,” she whispers under her breath, her eyes a little wide as she freezes, Scott’s arm around her shoulder as Stiles leaves the room, grumbling about finding his shoes and missing it. It must have clicked, what they were doing; what they were about to do became all too real instead of just an abstract idea of what was happening.

Scott gives her shoulders a squeeze and hands her Stiles’ old Lacrosse hoodie that he knows she likes to wear to feel better. “You’re going to be great.”

“You think so?” Scott’s heart clenches in his chest at how tiny her voice sounds.

“I do,” Scott affirms, just as he hears Stiles’ shuffling down the hall. “We’re both here with you. C’mon, we need a united front so we can deal with him.” Scott nods at Stiles and gives Malia a soft smile, and Malia physically relaxes a bit, but she’s still anxious and scared and worried.

She works better when she has someone else to worry about.

They all have that in common.

She turns to look at Stiles, nodding to herself. “Yeah, he’s gonna be a handful,” she agrees and she shares a look with Scott, one of resigned unity, and braces herself for the appointment.

“Okay, ready?” Stiles calls – grabbing his red hoodie and holding out his arm for Malia to link hers with his – none the wiser of the previously held conversation.

“Ready to get this over with,” Malia says, but they both can tell how excited she is underneath it all - effectively managing to hide her worry. Malia and Scott share one last look before they’re walking out the door with Scott bringing up the rear.

“We can do this,” Scott vows to himself as he pulls the sliding door shut and follows them to Scott’s car.

* * *

 

“Does she know?” Malia asks once they’re situated in an exam room.

“Know what?” Scott pulls his eyes from watching Stiles peek in the drawers and cabinets to look at her.

“Know about us?” Malia, herself, is watching Stiles, her hands balled at her sides as she lies back on the exam table. She's fighting the wave of nausea from the car ride.

“Us as in _us_ ,” Scott asks as he gestures to all three of them with a circle of his hand, the movement drawing Malia’s full attention. “Or us as in _us_?” He points a finger at himself and then at her and again.

“Us as in ‘we with the furry problem’,” Malia clarifies. She then rolls her eyes. “I don’t care what she thinks of what we have. I just care about her knowing what I am and what the baby could be. That has to be important.”

“Very important. I don’t know how that’s going to affect things either.”

“Well,” Malia begins with a smile, “At least I have a Vet in Training to watch over me too.”

Scott laughs just as the door opens and there's a crash from the other side of the room. Scott’s head snaps to the sound to see Stiles sprawled on the floor, the tipped-over wheeling stool over his body.

“Ah, yes,” says the figure in the doorway and Scott vaguely remembers seeing her in the ER a few times, mostly talking to his mom. “I’m going to need that,” she directs at Stiles still on the floor. Scott sees her lips twitch to fight a smile as she watches him scramble up and slides the stool back to where it had been, at the end of the counter.

“I’m Sherri Matherson. You can call me Dr. Sherri or Dr. Matherson, or even Sherri. It’s all up to you, whatever you feel comfortable with. Now that we got that out of the way,” she pauses to sit on the stool and opens the new manila folder that would, no doubt, double in size.

“Thank you for taking us on such short notice,” Scott interjects quickly, always polite and full of smiles.

“My pleasure. Your mom and I go way back, as you know. It’s nice to see how much you’ve grown,” Sherri says and there’s just something about her tone and the look she’s giving him that clicks.

She had delivered him.

_That’s why Mom specifically named her._

“Now, first and foremost, we need to confirm that your suspicions are true… Malia, we need a urine sample.” She instructs Malia on where the bathroom is and where to find the cups.

Scott looks once from the doctor to Malia, then to Stiles, who is leaning against the wall on Malia’s right side, and from the look on his face Malia had his hand in a death grip. Malia nods at the doctor and stands, a little shaky, and walks out the door, dragging Stiles with her. Scott decides to wait in the room.

After a few moments of silence only broken by shuffling papers, Scott takes his chance as what Malia had asked him a few minutes before comes to mind. “Sherri, did my mom tell you… anything specific?”

“That you’re all together? Yes, she did and I’m cool with that. If anything, it’s so great that you’re all in this.” She smiles at Scott and turns back to the paper she was filling out and looking over. When Scott doesn’t speak for a moment, Sherri pauses and raises an eyebrow at him. “But that’s not what you wanted to know, is it?”

“No, ma’am.” He shakes his head and then sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Did she say that Malia can… shift? And Stiles can’t?”

Sherri looks at him for a moment, but then she grins even more. “Yes, she did. You can relax. It’s okay. I’ve had at least one other patient in my years that has Malia’s… condition, let’s call it. Once Malia and… Stiles, was it?” At Scott’s nod she continues, “Once Malia and Stiles return and we get the results back, I’ll explain all of that.”

Confirming that the doctor knows about them, and that she has prior experience, makes Scott relax.

* * *

 

It takes no more than ten minutes for the results to come back that Malia is, in fact, pregnant. It takes the better part of a half hour for the doctor to give Malia a thorough physical examination in which Scott and Stiles both step out of the room for. Malia passes with flying colors.

It takes another ten minutes for Malia to explain her past as a coyote and her medical history that she knows of. When talk turns to her menstrual periods, Scott has to suppress a laugh at Stiles’ perplexed expression from behind Malia. She confirms what symptoms she’s had when the doctor lists them, and then confirms that she does not have any allergies to medications, and no prior chronic conditions.

“Discounting my furry problem,” she jokes.

Scott smiles as Stiles gives a low snort, the signal that Stiles is suppressing the urge to burst out laughing.

“Yes, discounting that – which really doesn’t affect pregnancy aside from the heightened urge to shift, which I advise you to keep to a minimum, as the untold stress isn’t the best for the baby,” Dr. Sherri says, smiling at Malia. “But you shouldn’t have much problem with that, given your history of excessively training yourself not to shift.”

She then turns to start fiddling with a machine and Scott takes a quick look at Malia. On the outside she looks calm at the news, but Scott knows her enough to know that she will constantly be worried about that. They all will be. Scott meets Stiles’ eyes over Malia’s head and he nods and Stiles returns it. They’d keep her as calm as possible. It was a vow.

The doctor, having won her battle with the machine, turns back to the trio with a look of triumph on her face. “Okay, let’s take a look and see how Baby is faring already,” she says with a smile and asks Malia to lay back for her. She goops up Malia’s stomach as Malia shakes out her hands in a non-verbal command for each of the males to take one. They do.

“This is an ultrasound,” the doctor explains as she presses buttons on the machine with a red finger nail. “I’m going to use it to determine the fetal age and weight.”

The room is quiet except for the click clacks of the doctors nails as she taps the screen of the machine. Scott, of course, can hear all four of their heartbeats and he tries to count the slower ones of the doctors over the sound of the three of theirs galloping in nervousness and anticipation. The quiet is nice, but of course it doesn't last long.

“What does that machine do exactly?” Stiles, ever curious, asks. Scott sees Malia’s head tilt in curiosity as well.

“It uses high frequency sound through this transducer.” She nods at the wand in her hand that is gliding over Malia’s abdomen without taking her eyes off the screen. “The gel acts as a conductor for the sound waves. The waves then bounce off bone and tissue in the uterus which then allows me to see an image of your baby. Malia will become intimately familiar with this machine in the months to come.” The doctor looks over at Malia then to smile.

“It feels so weird,” Malia says with a little laugh.

Stiles is quiet, digesting the new information. Scott can see the wheels moving in his head and knows something is coming but he can never brace himself for what. “Can you two hear it? The sound?” Scott face-palms and Malia groans, but Stiles scoffs. “Oh c’mon. High pitched noises!”

“Actually, dogs should be able to hear it…” Sherri interjects.

Malia and Scott turn to each other and Malia shrugs. They both close their eyes and listen closely. It takes a bit to get past all the heartbeats in the room (one less than they want), and then they can hear it - a faint pulsing.

“I can hear it,” Malia says slowly as she snaps her head to look at Stiles.

“It was a joke… but that's kinda awesome.”

“Why can't we hear the heartbeat yet?” Scott asks, ignoring his partners and focusing his attention on the doctor. She's writing things down in Malia's file, a smile freely floating on her lips.

“Nothing to worry. You won't be able to hear the heartbeat until she's 8 weeks along… and as of right now she is about 5 and a half.” The doctor finishes writing in the file and then rips a piece of paper from the machine. “But, rest assured, the baby is developing nicely.” She then reads off the weight, in which the three of them don't know what to make of that information.

“All right, let's get that gunk off of you. And just a few more things and the three of you can be on your way.”

Sherri makes quick work of wiping off Malia’s belly. After telling Malia what prenatal vitamins she needs and instructing them to stop by the front desk to schedule her next appointment, the three walk out into the sunlight, and Stiles gives Malia a piggyback to the car.

* * *

 

Stiles, in an effort to keep himself busy from excitement, decides to drive on the way back from the doctor. Scott and Malia then take the backseat. Scott lets Malia curl her body into him, and he finds his hand naturally resting on the non-visible bump of her belly. It’s too early to feel anything, or hear, but he just felt the need to touch. Malia hums softly in contentment, a sound blending in with Stiles’ rapid taps of his fingertips on the steering wheel.

“When are we going to tell his dad?” Scott murmurs into Malia’s hair, soft enough for only her to hear. He keeps his eyes trained on the back of Stiles’ head.

Malia shrugs one shoulder. “Soon. Probably better if Melissa’s there.” Malia digs her phone out of her pocket, her fingers quickly gliding over the screen to unlock it. “When does she get off?”

Scott rests back into the seat, scooting them both a little to get more comfortable. “Four, I think.”

“Wait, we’re supposed to have dinner tonight, aren’t we?”

She’s right. Every Saturday they’re invited for family dinner at Melissa and John’s. It’s mandatory when Scott’s home.

“Perfect answer to the ‘so, what’s new’ question,” Scott jokes under his breath to keep from laughing and alerting Stiles to their private conversation.

“He’s going to freak.”

“He’ll be fine. Mom will be there, as you said.”

“Not John. _Him_.” Malia nods over at Stiles and Scott tightens his arm around her in response.

“Good thing we’ll get a nap in before then.”

Malia nods in agreement, replacing her phone back in the pocket of her hoodie. Scott hums to her as they let the continued rapid tapping from Stiles and the motion of the car lull them into a comfortable silence.

* * *

 

When the trio make it back to their apartment, the males wordlessly follow Malia back to their bedroom to take a nap - Malia in the middle. Malia and Stiles are out the minute they get comfortable and it takes Scott a bit longer to fall asleep.

He's the first to wake up an hour later, carefully removing himself from Stiles’ grip. He had slept long enough and his brain wouldn't shut off.

He takes a survey of the apartment and decides to clean up a bit to kill time after sending a confirmation text to his mom that they'd be at dinner that night. He also sent a text to Liam, inviting him and Mason for dinner as well. They might as well kill two birds with one stone. Plus, he missed his Beta.

He decided against texting Lydia and Parrish (whom were off traveling the world for a year) and Kira (off in New York for college) the news, figuring Malia would want to tell her best friends herself.

After he picks up stray clothes and starts a load of dishes, he decides to do some homework while he lets the other two sleep a bit longer. He picks up his laptop and pulls up one of his electronic textbooks to settle in to read.

His attention begins to wander in record time, and in a Stiles-like fashion, he gives up and instead brings up the submenu to get to the search box. He types in ‘pregnancies’ and then clicks on the result that says ‘dogs’. It's a long shot, but knowing a little bit about their type of pregnancies may come in handy.

(Plus, its ends up being the reading for next week once he gets back to school, so really, he's just reading ahead.)

Not finding much, and with some more time to kill, Scott googles ‘coyote pregnancies’, figuring he might as well research Malia’s exact species.

The Google search is a dead end as well, with the only information Scott picks up is that female coyotes retreat in their den until they give birth. Granted, Malia won't give birth in a den, but he has a feeling that she’ll still crave the safety of one.

He starts brainstorming as he shuts down his laptop, abandoning his work in favor of a quick shower. He has enough time to jump in and then he needs to get the other two up to get ready for dinner. He lets the warm water cascade down his back as he thinks of what Stiles and he can do for Malia’s make-shift den.

By the time he's clean and dry, shaved and dressed, he has a firm idea in his head that he cannot wait to tell Stiles.

But first, it's time for the other two to get up and get ready before the three of them face the music, followed by his mom's delicious cooking.

* * *

 

After successfully waking Stiles and Malia and getting them into a shower (“Together, it's quicker.” “No promises.”), the trio make it to Scott’s childhood home on time. Malia’s nausea did not make a single appearance on the way.

“Pup!” Once Scott sees Liam, he runs and grabs the shorter male in a big hug, giving him a noogie as a greeting. Liam struggles to get out of his Alpha’s grip, but soon gives up and just hugs Scott back just as hard. He lets Scott's scent settle in his noise and intermingle with the fibers on his clothes before pulling away to give Malia a concerned once-over.

“You feeling better?” he asks her and she pulls him into a hug and gives him an exaggeratedly sloppy kiss on the head.

“Thanks for keeping me company.” She gives him two big squeezes and then releases him to hug Mason, whom just been released by Scott.

Stiles brings up the rear and musses up Liam's hair and gives Mason a weird handshake that Scott still can't replicate.

Then the pack moves on into the house, with Scott leading the way. He opens the door wide and yells, “Mom, Pack’s here!”

Melissa comes rushing around the corner and throws her arms around Scott in a big hug and does the same to everyone else, starting with Malia and ending with Mason. Melissa fell into the Pack Mom role quickly and she loves having a home filled with people after being her and Scott alone for years.

She tells all the pack to make themselves comfortable and that dinner would be ready in a few minutes, and that John Stilinski was running late. Scott leads everybody into the living room, where Scott, Malia, and Stiles crowd the couch and Mason pulls Liam into his lap in one of the arm chairs. Drinks have already been set out for everyone, in which they all yell, “Thanks, mom!” in various tones, as they set in and catch up.

Scott tells the younger pair about college and what he’s studying currently. Mason is an endless pool of questions and Liam has to gently put his hand over Mason’s mouth to get him to stop.

Scott finds it really cute to watch them interact together. They’ve always been a unit, but Liam was always skirting around Mason, and now it seems all awkwardness stemming from feelings and secrets have been resolved, and they both look more comfortable in their own skin. They’ve grown a couple inches since Scott had seen them last, and it feels like he’s watched them grow up in front of his own eyes.

They’ll be graduating next year, and then they’ll be off to college on their own. Time flies.

And then he’ll get to watch the new baby grow up. He vows to appreciate every moment he can. He knows all too well how much everything can vanish in the blink of an eye.

The door opening brings Scott out of his thoughts, and a new ball of nerves takes up residence in his stomach. He feels Stiles stiffen beside him, and his hand squeezes Stiles’ knee. Malia reaches behind Scott to Stiles, where she rubs the pressure point at the base of Stiles’ neck.

“Mel, I’m home!” comes the gruff voice of Stiles’ dad.

“In the kitchen! Kids are in the den!” comes the response from Scott’s mom.

The sheriff shuffles in the room. “Hi everyone!” he greets, pausing on his way to his favorite chair to kiss Malia on the top of her head and to playfully knock Stiles and Scott’s heads together. He rests a hand on each of Liam and Mason’s shoulders in passing too, having completely adopted this weird group of kids as his own.

“Full house tonight I see. Special occasion?”

Scott digs his elbow into Stiles’ thigh to keep him quiet, and Malia covers his small yelp by saying, “Scott’s back for the weekend. We’ve all missed him.” She’s gotten the hang of lying… somewhat. But with the Sheriff interested with taking off his boots, he doesn’t catch the uncertainty in her voice.

“Yep, so I called a Pack dinner. Easier to meet in one place,” Scott adds on, and all of a sudden he wants to get dinner over with.

Stiles, after a warning look from Scott, pipes up with, “How was work, Dad? Did you catch the guy?”

“You’d know if you were there,” John deadpans, but smiles as his attention moves over to Malia. “How are you feelin’, Mal?”

“I’m pregnant!”

“Dinner’s ready!” Melissa says at the same time as Malia and the room is dead quiet as everyone quickly snaps their heads to a deer-in-the-headlights Malia.

“We were going to wait!” Scott hisses at Malia.

“Why didn’t you tell me we were telling him tonight?” Stiles says in loud shock, jumping up from the couch and running his hands through his hair. It's sticking up in every direction when he pulls his hand down to point at them. He looks from Malia to Scott, eyes wide. “Wait, you too?”

“You’re pregnant?” John's voice cuts through the noise. He's still sitting in his chair, but he might as well be standing with the force of his tone. Scott shrinks back just the same.  “Who’s the-? Actually, I don’t care. Doesn’t matter who because none of you… _You aren’t ready for kids yet_!”

“Whoa!” Malia jumps up, standing beside Stiles. “No one said _kids_ , as in plural. Let’s start with _one_ …”

“John,” Melissa warns, coming to sit on the arm of his chair. John shoulders off her attempt at resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Did you know?” he directs at Melissa, who nods.

“I told them to tell you.”

“Did you two know?” The sheriff asks next, and in any other situation Malia’s and Stiles’ matching faces of confusion would be comical. “Not you two, I mean them,” and then they realize he's pointing at Mason and Liam.

Liam gives a squeak as he flinches under the Sheriff’s gaze and Mason shakes his head firmly, unable to speak with his jaw open so far in shock.

“That's why you were sick?!” Liam finds his voice, sitting up straighter as his gaze flits between the trio.

In an effort to clear things up, Scott takes a cleansing breath and stands up to join his partners. He faces the man whom he used to view as a father figure now turned actual stepdad. “We just went to the doctor today to confirm that yes, Malia is pregnant. Mom helped us get the appointment so I could be there.”

He puts his arms around Stiles and Malia. “We, as in Malia and I, thought tonight would be best to tell you all since we're all together… we didn't get a chance to give Stiles a heads up because someone,” Scott looks pointedly at Malia, “couldn't wait.”

Malia grimaces. “I panicked.” She looks over at Scott and Stiles, mouthing ‘Sorry’.

“Dad,” Stiles begins, pulling his father's gaze to him. He's been pretty quiet throughout the exchanges so far. “I know you think we're too young. Hell, so do we. It was news to us too… but we...” He maneuvers his body around Scott so that he's in the middle. He looks between them and smiles, his arms replacing Scott's on their shoulders and brings them closer together. “We can do this. I'm terrified out of my mind but… I want this.” He takes a breath and looks back at his father. “What do you say, Gramps?”

Looking at John, the gears turning in his head, the muscle in his jaw jumping, it's scary. Scott’s heart is about to beat out of his chest. His hand grips Stiles’ shirt as they wait for John to say something. He chances a glance at Stiles out of the corner of his eye and is surprised to see his stupid half smile, half smirk is in place.

It's a Stilinski trait, because soon John gives up his internal battle and his lips curl to match his son’s. The trio collectively let out the breath they've been holding.

“Come here,” John tells Malia, arms open wide as he stands up. Malia all but leaps into his open arms as she hugs him, burying her face in his chest with just enough time for Scott to catch the tears on her cheeks. “You guys too,” he says to the boys, holding open one arm to make room.

Scott and Stiles share relieved grins and then launch themselves at the man as well.

Not to be left out, Scott feels Liam and Mason’s forms press close to him, their arms winding around his torso and possibly Stiles’, and he feels his Mom kiss him on the head as she moves to hug him from the front.

All in all, that was so much better than they had expected, and they were happy it was over with. Once the hug was over, Melissa ushered them into the dining room lest the food get any colder.

Dinner goes by more smoothly, with Liam and Mason being curious and excitable about the new baby and being uncles.

They confirm that Stiles is the father and Scott takes peeks at his stepdad all night after that, delighting in the warm and happy expression on the older man's face.

His mom is much the same, but with misty eyes. She sticks close to Malia, talking about her pregnancy so far. They've really bonded over the years, and much like John, Melissa has adopted Malia as the daughter she's never had.

It warms Scott's heart to see everyone together and happy. This was his pack and he's fought hard to get to this moment in time. Sure he's missing some, but he can feel them all the same.

* * *

 

The following weeks sees Scott coming home every weekend and skipping class as much as possible. His professors are understanding and as long as he check in and gets the lecture notes and watches the online broadcasts, he keeps up on his studies.

He spends his time helping Malia while Stiles works odd shifts, and they start to plan the baby’s room and what they're going to need.

“I'm planning the baby shower,” Lydia commands over Skype one night. She and Jordan made a pitstop at Kira’s place, and it's the first time Scott has seen all three of them together in a long time.

“Lyds, that's months away ” Kira says and then regrets it. Of course, this is Lydia they’re talking about.

“Yeah, I'm going to need that long to plan,” Lydia insists and soon she's off, rattling out ideas. Scott takes a page out of Parrish’s book and leaves to occupy himself with something else.

Between baby planning and doctor appointments and schoolwork, Scott hasn't had a chance to talk to Stiles about his idea. He knows he has time, but the quicker he does the better.

**To Han Solo 5:38 PM**

_U getting off on time 2nite_

**To Lando 5:45 PM**

_Unless some riot happens yea y?_

**To Han Solo 5:50 PM**

_Moms coming over. Girl bonding. I have an idea I need your help with._

**To Lando 5:51 PM**

_What_

**To Han Solo 5:58 PM**

_Surprise just get home. Meet you at my moms._

**To Lando 5:58PM**

_Your mom's?????_

**To Han Solo 6:00 PM**

_Just be there._

“What’s your idea that requires me meeting you at your mom’s,” Stiles asks as he gets out of the car. Technically it’s both of their parent’s house, but it was still a little weird thinking of it like that.

“You know how coyotes live in dens, right?”

“Yes?” Stiles replied skeptically. “Malia lived in one.”

Scott smiles. “Exactly. I have an idea to make her one. Follow me.” Scott hooks his thumb behind him towards the garage.

“You’re not goin’ to actually dig her a den, are you?” Stiles asks suspiciously as he follows Scott.

Scott sends him a look over his shoulder. “No, that’s dumb.”

Stiles shrugs. “Maybe we should.”

“Stiles, _no._ ”

“It was a joke, Scott. You should know me better than that by now.”

Scott leads Stiles down the path to the garage. He slides the huge, creaky down out of the way and pulls the string for the lights. He smiles at the pile of wood that was leftover from when his dad used to live there. It was meant to be a tree house, and thankfully his mom hadn’t thrown it out. She had stole pieces for firewood from time to time, though.

“Wait… please tell me you’re thinking of a fort,” Stiles says excitedly. At Scott’s grin, Stiles laughs. “Duuude, this is going to be fucking epic.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Scott nods and they both start sorting out the wood into piles. “I figured your dad could help us. And once the baby is born, we can move it to their room.”

“That’s actually genius.”

“Were you expecting anything less?”

Stiles snorts. “Honestly?” Scott hits him on the arm. “Hey! Kidding. Kidding. Let’s get to work.”

* * *

 

“Scott. _Scott_.”

Malia’s shaking wakes Scott up from a deep sleep, more so than the calling of his name.

“What? What? _Malia_?” He bolts upright and Malia grabs his arm to shush him. “Malia? Are-are-are you okay? It it the baby, _is it time_?” He squints around, turning on his Alpha vision to try to find his pants.

Malia pulls him back down on the bed, puts a finger to his lips. “No, no, no. Calm down, it’s been _two months_.”

Scott doesn’t get the significance. She sighs. “Just _listen_ ,” she commands impatiently.

“To what?”

“Listen!” she hisses at him.

He does as he’s told, even though his still sleep-fogged brain has no idea what he should be listening for. He slows down his breathing and listens - cutting through the layer of an owl hooting and cicadas. He cuts through Stiles’ snoring and Malia’s breathing, and then past their three heartbeats until he hears it.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

“Heartbeat! Stiles! Wake up, I can hear the heartbeat!”

Stiles bolts up quickly and almost falls out of the bed. “Hear’bea’?” he grumbles, his eyes squinting in the moonlight. Then it clicks. “Really? Oh my god!” He excitedly bends down to Malia’s slightly curved belly to listen.

“Wait,” he says slowly, sitting up. “I can’t hear it.” Frowning as he sags back down into the bed.

Scott’s heart sinks.

“Hey, now. We have a doctor’s appointment in a few days and you’ll hear it then,” Malia assures him, reaching over to run her fingers through her hair.

“Not the same.” He sighs.

“Sorry, man. We forgot.”

“It’s nice and strong… kind of has the same pattern as yours,” Malia whispers to Stiles. She presses a kiss to his forehead and Scott can just make out the outline of Stiles’ smile in the moonlight.

“She’s right,” Scott agrees, laying down with them. He finds Stiles’ hand in the dark and entwines their fingers together. An idea comes to him. “Like this.” Scott taps the pattern on Stiles’ wrist.

“Cool!” Stiles exclaims and the three of them quiet down as the full force of this milestone hits them and the relief that the heartbeat is strong.

Stiles cries at the doctor’s appointment when it’s his turn to hear it.

* * *

 

Once the morning sickness ends, weird cravings and leg cramps and backaches begin in the second trimester.

During the fourth, fifth, and sixth months, Scott spends more time at school than he does at home. He gets daily reports from Malia or his mom. He receives picture after picture, link after link, of nursery ideas from Malia at all hours of the day. Included are day by day pictures of how big her belly is getting.

Within this time period, Scott keeps adding cute pillows he sees to his collection for Malia’s makeshift den.

When the fifth month rolls into the sixth, Scott’s home a lot more when Malia starts to get very restless and insomnia takes over due to increased backaches. Scott and Stiles take shifts giving her back, feet, and leg massages.

During week 20, Scott and Stiles reveal the finished product of Malia’s makeshift den in their room. They constructed a wooden structure that comes up and over their bed like a canopy, fairy lights strung over the edges to give the inside a faint glow. A brown blanket is stapled to the structure to act like a cave wall, and there’s hundreds of pillows of every shape and size stacked under it on their bed, to give Malia the security of hiding under the mountain of fluffy material.

She cries when she sees it.

* * *

 

With the insomnia comes the never-ending Disney movie binge.

Scott feels like there’s more Disney lyrics in his head than his own thoughts by the time Malia’s third trimester starts in the seventh month.

He’s known the Lion King trilogy was Malia’s favorite, but he’s never known just how much.

One night, the Lion King 2, in particular, becomes all of their favorite movie.

They’re curled up around Malia in her den, at some hour in the morning, Scott suspects, when Malia’s cry wakes the boys from their light dozing. “Guys, guys!”  

They bonk heads in their effort to wake up. Groaning and rubbing the site of impact on their heads, they turn to Malia with twin looks of alarm.

“The baby kicked!” Malia exclaims happily as she grabs their hands and rests them on her belly. It takes a moment, but then there’s another firm bounce of her belly under their palms. Twin grins break out on the males’ faces.

“This is so awesome, wow.”

“I can’t believe this!”

“She’s definitely your child, Stiles, she won't stop moving. I think she likes this movie,” Malia says with a laugh. She’s positively glowing from the light of the television screen, and both boys would agree that she’s never looked more beautiful. Her smiling face, sparkling eyes, and her giggles. It makes their hearts melt.

“We are one,” Scott sings along to the movie, and the baby must have heard him because she (even though they don’t know the sex yet, Malia has insisted it’s a girl; therefore, they’ve all been thinking of the baby as one) kicks again and again. _Definitely Stiles' kid_.

Scott makes a note to add a stuffed lion to the growing mountain of pillows in Malia’s den.

* * *

 

In the weeks to come, they settle on a nursery theme and a baby name. Scott’s a little worried that they only have a female name, but he’s sure it can be changed into a male name if need be.

(Malia’s still dead set that she’s having a girl. It helps she’s banned pink from baby gifts and the nursery, in the off-chance she’s wrong.)

The nursery colors are earth-tones (greens and browns) and sunset colors (yellows and oranges). She puts the entirety of the Lion King Disney Baby line on their baby registry to the point where Lydia calls her up asking if she’s sure. The look on Malia’s face could kill.

Lydia doesn’t second guess her from that point on. In fact, Lydia takes the idea and runs with the theme for the baby shower. She turns the loft into an African savannah so real Scott had to walk out and walk back in, in case he got teleported somewhere by chance.

The baby shower ends up being way more fun than Scott expected. Lydia made it a co-ed party, scoffing at the traditional idea that it was a “girl thing” and shuts up Stiles quickly for even thinking of calling it such a thing.

“Careful, or she’ll be screaming over your dead body for a completely different reason than her Banshee senses,” Scott mutters in passing at his boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a laugh on his way to go set out the cups for the party.

They play all the games Lydia deemed were fun and not tacky, and Malia spends the whole time being fawned over and laughing, more comfortable than she had been in the past few weeks. She’s really round now, and her belly is way more spherical than Scott was expecting.

They get a good haul of baby supplies as gifts, to the point they have all of the important pieces. Malia cries with each gift, her hormones kicking in full force, and Stiles and Scott agree they’ve never seen her quite so happy.

“This is really happening,” Stiles says to Scott as they clean away the wrapping paper.

“Yep, not so bad, huh?” He grins at Stiles who snorts.

“So far no. It’s after she’s born is what I’m worried about,” he admits, then, without missing a beat continues. “But that’s what’s great about us. There’s three of us to share the duties.”

“Yeah, so no slacking off.” Scott swats him playfully, and Stiles counters by hitting him back. They end up struggling against each other and then to the floor in a piles of flailing limbs. Once Scott’s back hits the floor and Stiles’s legs are straddling his waist, Scott smiles up at Stiles and brings him down into a sloppy, warm kiss.

They break apart laughing, and they can hear Malia yell, “Get a room!” from somewhere to their right, and the whole party joins in laughing as the boys pull themselves up, embarrassed.

* * *

 

The last month is spent try to keep Malia as comfortable as possible. Her shifting was not much of an issue until the full moon that landed the week before her due date.

“Mal, you have to stay with us, babe.”

“Find your anchor.”

“I’m trying.”

Malia sits in her den with the stuffed coyote Stiles had won her at a carnival clutched to her chest. She’s breathing heavily and whining; her eyes flashing from dark brown to electric blue and back. Stiles and Scott are on each side of her, hands smoothing down her arms and rubbing her back.

“I can’t…”

“Focus on the heartbeat,” Stiles tells her suddenly. “The baby’s.”

Her back muscles tense hard under Scott’s palm.

“Mal?”

She lets out a loud yell, then, and whines deep in her throat. “It’s not… I’m not… It’s ti-”

Stiles looks at Scott in worry, and Scott shakes his head. ‘She’s okay,’ he mouths over Malia’s head. He can hear the heartbeat still, and he keeps his focus on the sound.

Malia lurches forward again, more quickly as she cries out.

“Try laying back. The doctor said to lay back and relax, that should help,” Stiles tries to tell her calmly but he misses the mark by a mile. His voice is frantic and he’s so much more out of his element with what’s happening that he’s panicking too.

“You stay calm,” Scott hisses at Stiles over Malia’s head. Stiles shifts his body around so she’s resting against his chest. Scott’s hands coax Malia to lay back slowly and after first resisting, Scott saps a bit of her pain away, and that gets her to un-tense enough to lay back.

The rush of pain hits Scott right in the chest like a suckerpunch and he loses his breath for a full five seconds.

 _“Scott?”_ Stiles’ voice hurts as it pierces his ears.

He felt the blood drain from his face, so no doubt Stiles can see how pale he is. But he’s not going down, not now. He’s died once before, and that was so much worse than this. The zap of pain still sucked, and he can’t believe Malia’s feeling it full force.

An inhale through his nose. “I’m fine,” he stresses and turns his attention back to Malia. There’s tears on her face; her eyes completely electric blue. He tries to remember what the doctor said about the difference between Braxton Hicks and real ones. He lets the veil of calm he uses when he’s looking over hurt animals fall over him and lets every other sense fall away.

He puts his hand on Malia’s abdomen and waits for another contraction. “Start timing them,” he tells Stiles. “The time in between.”

Stiles, with shaking fingers, fumbles his phone out of his pocket and starts the stopwatch on his phone. Scott massages Malia’s round belly. Another pain rocks Malia’s body, her abdomen muscles tightening under Scott’s hand.

“They’re getting…” Malia says through clenched teeth. “Stronger.”

Scott hears Stiles’ heartbeat spike at that.

“Can you walk?” Scott asks her, his mind racing. But he’s calm. He has to be since he can just feel Stiles falling apart at the seams.

“Two minutes,” Stiles reports.

“I-I think so,” Malia finally answers after the pain subsides a bit. “I think I’m in labor. They’re so much stronger than they have been.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Without wasting time, Scott gets Stiles moving and focused enough to get her on her feet. They need to move quick and get her down to the car. It might be their only opening.

They’ve already packed her bag and had it stashed in the car since their first bout of false contractions. Scott grabs their coats and phones, his car keys, and they’re quickly out the door.

Stiles is holding Malia up like his life depends on it and Scott zaps as much pain as he can without her noticing. He needs her to feel the contractions to know how far apart they are, but it takes all he has to keep from sucking it all away.

She has one contraction in the elevator; her yells bouncing around the metal car loudly. But they make it to the car without much incident.

“Who’s driving?” Stiles asks once they get Malia safely into the car.

“You. Faster,” Scott replies, and he quickly gets in the back with Malia. Stiles tosses Scott his phone for him to keep track of the contractions. They’re getting a little bit closer but not too much. They have time.

He texts his mom to meet him in the ER.

* * *

 

Malia’s water breaks a block from the hospital.

“That’s so gross. I hope that comes out,” Stiles says when he sees the puddle of discharge on the floor of car when he’s stopped at a stop sign. He’d blow through it if a car hadn’t turned in front of him.

“Just get me there,” Malia yells at him and it shuts Stiles up. He turns around and floors it the rest of the way to the hospital.

Scott continues to sap her pain. It’s all he can do as he tries to sooth her, his hand massaging her abdomen. He hates himself for the fleeting thought of thanking the higher power for making him male. Pregnancy was terrible.

Stiles stops with a violent lurch of the car, leaving it running as he flinging himself out of the car to run to get a wheelchair. Thankfully, Melissa is already waiting - though Stiles completely runs past her - and opens up the back door to let Scott and Malia out.

Melissa gets Malia quickly into a wheelchair, and notifies the front desk that Malia has arrived. Stiles comes back once he realizes Melissa had been waiting, red and frantic. Scott tells him that he needs to calm down and after getting to okay from his mom, he returns to the car to go park it properly.

* * *

 

Once Scott returns to the lobby, he’s told to go to the delivery floor and that he’d then be told where to go.

The halls are a blur and he’s so relieved to be back on solid ground on he runs from the elevator.

“Malia Tate,” he tells the information desk. “Stilinski,” he clarifies, in case she was checked in under Stilinski. He doesn’t know and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

“408, sir,” the nurse kindly tells him and buzzes him through. He jogs to the room and takes what feels like his first breath once he gets in the room.

“Okay, boys, relax,” his mom says as she turns to Scott. “You’ve made it, but it’s going to be a while. Get comfortable.”

* * *

 

The waiting is the hardest part. Well, Malia's pain is, but for Scott and Stiles it's the anxious waiting, and not knowing what to do for her. So they take breaks as she rests which consist of walks around the hospital.

Scott never got used to the eerie quiet in the wee hours of the morning, wandering around the maze of hospital halls, never knowing if he'll have to jump out of the way if nurses and doctors have an emergency. He doesn't know how his mom can stand it, but then again his mom worked in Emergency there's always something going on.

Especially in Beacon Hills.

"Why did we come to this hospital again?"

"Because it's the only one for miles around," replies Scott.

They're down in the cafeteria having just paid Scott's mother a visit. Stiles is staring intently at his reflection in the glass as Scott rescues his fallen Coke can from the vending machine.

The hiss of the can echoes in the empty room. So does Stiles' sigh. "I'm worried." His fingers scratch through his hair, adorably messy.

"Nothing is going to happen. Not tonight." At least they deserve that. This place has been the scene of many supernatural battles in their young lives. One night of peace and safety was not too much to ask for.

"Not that," Stiles says softly with a shake of the head. "Well... Now I'm worried about that but that's not what I meant."

Scott takes a sip of his Coke, leaning against the wall beside Stiles and purposely pressing his shoulder against his. He can smell the anxiety rising within Stiles and knows even before he asks, his voice matching pitch with Stiles'. "What did you mean?"

The world feels small, quiet there in that room at three in the morning. When Stiles doesn't speak – he doesn't need too anyway – Scott slowly reaches for Stiles' hand to entwine their fingers. He gives it a squeeze and twists his body to rest his forehead against Stiles' temple. He can feel him shaking, struggling to take a breath.

Stiles is having a panic attack. It's something Scott is rusty at dealing with, but something he had perfected way back when his best friend had lost his mother and it had become a coping mechanism.

"Breathe," Scott murmurs in his ear, then exaggerates his own breathing for him to follow. It's the same method his mom had taught him when he was diagnosed with asthma.

"You're going to be a wonderful father. You're going to love that pup with every cell in your body. That's who you are. You're Stiles, you protect and care about your family and you will do whatever it takes to keep them safe. We love you. And pup will too."

Stiles' breathing is rapid and catches as he tries to mimic Scott, but it's not changing. Scott keeps calm, his voice soothing. "You can do this. You know why?" Scott smiles and presses a kiss to Stiles temple, his thumb caressing Stiles' hand in his. "You're not alone. You have us Malia and me, every step of the way. And you have the best example to follow... your dad.

“It's okay to be worried and scared; hell, I'm terrified. You're going to make mistakes you're not going to be perfect. Neither will Malia and neither will I. But we're in this together and we are going to give the baby the best life possible; wanna know why?"

Stiles by now has managed to slow his breathing to slow heaving. He nods frantically in answer.

"Because we love each other, and we will love that pup and she or he will never know what life is like to not be loved."

Gradually, with more coaxing from Scott, Stiles manages to get his breathing under control.

* * *

 

The boys make it back to the room, and thankfully Malia is sleeping peacefully.

“Epidural go well?” he asks his mom. She had sat in with Malia while Scott got Stiles out of the room. He was still woozy around needles, and Malia had previously given Scott the OK to get Stiles out of the room if she decided to go the pain meds route.

“Yes, it did. Quick and easy.” Melissa tells Scott as he takes her vacated spot next to Malia’s bedside. “Seems to be working so far.”

He nods. With Malia being a were-being, none of them were sure how fast her body would try to expel the pain meds. Seems the epidural is strong enough to resist it.

He immediately zones in on the real heartbeat of their baby, by-passing the annoying machine that monitors it. The nurses constantly have to come in to adjust it. His nerves are so shot to hell he almost told them, multiple times, to just leave it be and that he’d be able to hear if something went wrong.

But he wasn’t a professional and that would be malpractice; especially if something went wrong.

The heartbeat is fast, strong. He tenses his muscles as her touches Malia’s clammy hand.

“How long has she been sleeping?” Stiles asks without looking up. He’s brushing Malia’s hair back and wiping a cloth across her damp forehead. So far she’s been having a rough time with contractions. Scott predicts Stiles is going to have a pretty bruised hand by the time this was all over.

“The epidural didn’t take too long, and she’s been dozing on and off since. I’d say about 20 minutes,” Melissa explains, falling into her nursing tone, as Scott calls it. “The contractions have gotten better, not that she’s not fighting them.”

She gives Scott a kiss on the forehead, then Stiles and then Malia. “I’m going to go get some coffee and call your dad.”

The boys grunt to acknowledge her.

“I’d suggest you two getting some rest as well. You’re no help to her if you’re at risk of falling over any minute. Bye.” She walks to the door. “Text me if anything happens!” She blows them a kiss before shutting the door behind her.

“She has a point,” Scott grumbles as he readjusts his chair so he can put his feet up and still hold her hand. He reaches over to grab the remote and restarts the Lion King 2 for what feels like the billionth time over the course of Malia’s pregnancy - probably the 300th time alone since they’ve been in the room.

“I know.” Scott looks over at Stiles and frowns. He’s still pale from earlier. But he’s still watching Malia and Scott knows he’s not going to budge on his own.

“C’mon, we’ll take shifts. I’ll take first and you can sleep. At least 20 minutes?” he presses gently.

“‘Kay,” is all Scott gets for his trouble. At least Scott sees Stiles lean forward to rest his head on the edge of Malia’s bed. And within seconds, he’s out and snoring softly against Malia’s leg.

Get Stiles to sit still long enough if he’s exhausted and he’s out like a light.

Scott relaxes back into his chair, listening to all three of their heartbeats as he sings along to the movie softly under his breath.

* * *

 

His mom, John, Liam, Mason, Kira, Jordan, and Lydia all take turns sitting with them in Malia’s room to keep them company. Also, more specifically, to keep whichever boy’s turn it was to be awake, awake.

The frequency in which the nurses come to check on Malia rises hours later, which Scott thinks means that the time is getting closer. Malia, even under the epidural, is getting more restless. They’ve even rolled in the tray with long latex gloves about an hour ago.

Stiles’ nerves are shot, and Scott is getting antsy.

The tell-tale clue that things were getting closer was the nurse turning two them and saying, “Sorry, it’s preferred that only the father is–”

“We _both_ are,” Stiles interjects forcefully, leveling a dark look at the nurse. His eyes are red from stress, his irises dark.

The nurse seems to be immune to the look, but after looking back and forth at them with slightly narrowed eyes she shrugs. Good, Scott has been, off and on, sitting in this chair for 8 hours; he isn’t going to miss the moment they’d all been racing towards for 35 weeks.

“They’re both staying here with me,” Malia stresses at the nurses, and the subject is dropped.

* * *

 

The birth is terrifying.

Malia yells make the hairs on the back of Scott’s neck rise as she pushes; sweat rolling down her face.

She has both of their hands in a vice grip, and they both try to keep her calm as she pushes. Her eyes flash blue a couple time, and she draws blood from her claws digging into their palms. Stiles keeps his head north, and faces away from Malia’s bottom half, but Scott decides to watch. (He’s probably going to end up delivering babies at the Vet clinic).

But after all of the yelling and the tears, the terrible scents and the blood, out comes the most beautiful thing Scott has ever seen.

“A girl.” Scott says breathlessly. “We have a girl!”

There’s tears in Stiles’ eyes as he turns to look, and Malia drops their hand to reach for the baby desperately.

“She’s so tiny,” Stiles says in awe.

“Be careful with her,” Malia warns the nurses and Dr. Sherri, tears rolling down her face. She doesn’t take her eyes off the baby for a second as they take her to clean her up, not even when Stiles and Scott both give her kisses on the forehead.

Scott takes the free moment to walk around the bed to Stiles’ side so he’s out of the way. Stiles reaches for him and bring him in for a quick kiss. “She did it.”

“She was right,” Scott counters.

Malia got the baby girl she wanted.

* * *

**  
PROLOGUE**

“C’mon, Kiara,” Scott coaxes, his hands outstretched to his one year old daughter. “Come to Papa.”

He’s kneeling on a beach towel, his sunglasses pushed up on his head. Malia is smiling and Stiles is shoving Pringles in his mouth. He then moves to kneel a few inches away from Scott.

“Come to Daddy?” Stiles says with a wicked grin, his arms outstretched too.

“You’re really going to make her choose?” Malia asks him with a laugh. “That’s so not cool.”

“Eh, might as well get it over with, am I right?” Stiles jokes and Scott rolls his eyes.

“Okay, little one, who do you want to go to?”

It’s Kiara’s first birthday and they’re spending it on the beach. It was the best place to go in July.

 _One family under the the sun_ , Scott can’t help but sing in his head.

Kiara gives a big smile and takes a few steps… one, two, three, before she falls to bounce on her butt.

All three parents rush towards her - one cohesive unit. Kiara gets kisses from all three parents.

Stiles rubs his chin. “Hmm, she’s was angled more my way, though.”

“Stiles, it’s not spin the bottle.”

“You’re just mad she didn’t pick you.”

“Guys, honestly. She’s going to love you both. But not as much as me,” Malia sing songs as she runs off into the water with Malia, leaving Scott and Stiles gaping after her.

“That’s not fair!” Stiles yells and runs after her, Scott at his heels.

_...we are one_

 


End file.
